Dark Prowl and His Pet
by LonelyValentine
Summary: The Chief Enforcer of Praxus will stop at nothing to have a short, silver, slim, and curvy-framed Polyhexian pleasuremech as his pet to satisfy his depraved desires. Chairs will be pushed up against walls!


**Dark Prowl and His Pet**

 **x-x-x**

This story is based upon the following Tfanonkink prompt:

 _REQ:Prowl/Jazz ?/Jazz-Prostitution, kinky, rough sticky sex, oral, rape, mpreg._

 _Date: 2017-12-14 01:11 am (UTC)_

 _Anyone that start with Prowl, Chief Enforcer of Praxus, going to the Brothel looking for fun. And he stumbled upon one of the pleasuremechs, a short, silver, slim, and curvy-framed Polyhexian named Soltice (before he change it to Jazz). I wanted a very hot oral to sticky smex in this; with Soltice on Prowl's lap in the chair, up against the wall. I wanted Soltice (Jazz) as the sub in this. Prowl has been coming back to that place everyday and he asked Soltice's boss that if he could have him. Soltice (still Jazz) is not a happy bot to be his master's pet. Soltice was to follow prowl's orders in a middle of rough sticky sex.  
I even wanted to see Prowl as a voyeur and let's the constructicons play his pet. Another sticky (Rape) sex Prowl forced Soltice to get sparked up.  
Fast forward to Soltice's sparkling's new teenage upgrade. The creation discovered it's father, prowl, has been keeping its's mom as his plaything. So they planned to run away and faked their deaths. They moved to Polyhex and they changed their identities and their paintjob. Soltice change his name to Jazz.  
Years later, a war started, prowl meets TIC, Jazz. He discovered that B/W mech was his pleasuremech and Jazz creation was his. He threatened to blackmail him and his creation, unless Jazz plays as his pet again and Jazz is forced to accept punishment. That will be tons of noncon sticky sex for poor Jazz. And he even warned his creation not to tell or whatever Dark Prowl will do to it.  
You can think of any happy ending to help end jazz's dark past and present. Maybe in the end (Like after Prowl's death from 86 moive). Jazz/? has got together and along with jazz's creation._

I much preferred the story to be either on or Ao3. No tumblr. If its explicited, it can be mostly on Ao3.  
Can anybody do that, please. For the Bottom!Jazz fans out there. If you noticed the '?' there, you can pick any mech that's willing to give him some love.  
So please! I need more Dark!Dominant!Prowl and submissive pleasurebot Jazz in explicit kinky sticky Non-con and (maybe) dub con near ending.

 **x-x-x**

It all began with Prowl, the Chief Enforcer of Praxus, going to a place called "The Brothel" looking for fun. Normally he went to more luridly-titled bordellos, but he thought he'd give the place a try. As long as it delivered what the name promised, he didn't mind the lack of creativity on the owner's part.

Coming in, the place was dark and loud and crowded, but he made his way to the bar and ordered an overpriced cube of high-grade to sip as he looked over the prostitutes, hoping to find one to spend a few cycles with. Available pleasuremechs would come in to the bar area and show themselves off, circulating among the potential customers until selected. But so far none of the available pleasuremechs had caught his optic, and so kept drinking until after few cycles he was quite intoxicated. Deciding that there wasn't much fun to be had at "The Brothel" he paid his tab and turned to go. Maybe he could try some of the other places up the street, such as the newly opened "Cathouse" or that old classic,"The Bagnio." But in his drunken state, he tripped over something and ended up stumbling right onto one of the establishment's employees, knocking the poor pleasuremech to the ground and landing squarely atop him.

Both mechs were pulled to their feet by the other patrons, and Prowl apologized to the employee. "I'm terribly sorry," he said, eyeing the Polyhexian he'd nearly crushed.

"I'm all right," answered the short, silver, slim, and curvy-framed pleasuremech. "No harm done."

Prowl liked what he saw. Somehow he'd always thought of slim and curvy as not being available in one package, but somehow this mech had both going on. "What's your name? May I buy you a drink?"

"I'm Soltice, and sure," responded the Polyhexian.

"Soltice. That's an interesting name," said Prowl as the two stood together at the counter, sipping more overpriced high-grade. "What's it mean?"

"I'm not sure. I think I might change it some day since it's such an odd name. People keep asking questions."

Prowl was leering at the prostitute. "Well whatever your name is, I came here looking for fun, but now I think I'd like some very hot oral to sticky smex."

"I can do that for you," replied Soltice (who would eventually change his name to Jazz, but that's in the later part of this story). "Let's go to my room in the back."

Prowl followed Soltice down a corridor and into the aforementioned room. "I've got something particular in mind," said Prowl once the door was locked.

"Whatever you want," giggled the silver pleasuremech. "I'm very submissive."

Prowl pushed the chair in the room up against the wall and then sat down in it. "Come over here and sit, Soltice," he said, patting his lap.

Soltice sat down as instructed.

"Now, how about some of that very hot oral to sticky smex?"

Soltice was indeed a talented pleasuremech, and was very quick to slide open his panel and ride his customer's hoo-hoo-dilly there in the chair. The oral performance was a little more awkward since Prowl still wanted him sitting in his lap for it, but somehow Soltice managed to please. After all, it was his job to give the customer what he wanted.

In fact, Soltice was so good at what he did, that Prowl began coming back to The Brothel every day and asking Soltice's employer if he could have him. The employer, soon feeling that he might become the target of some unwanted attention from the Praxian enforcers if he said no, quickly sold Soltice's contract to their chief, who immediately took him home.

Soltice (who still had yet to change his name to Jazz, but I assure you, dear reader, that he eventually will) was not happy about the arrangement. Prowl treated him him like a pet, forcing him to wear a collar and sleep at the foot of the bed. Eating from a bowl on the floor was simply humiliating, but worse yet were the times that Prowl forced him to play 'fetch' with a stick in the yard. The sex however was fantastic—always rough and sticky, just the way Soltice liked it—except for one thing. Soltice had to follow orders that came right in the middle of it. Sometimes Prowl would order him to go fetch him a cube of high-grade, or tell him to go for walkies with him right as Soltice was about to overload.

The whole humiliation thing took a horrible turn when one day Prowl was having some work done on his house. As they were installing a pet door on the front of the house, Prowl took his pet out into the yard for another rousing game of fetch. Worse yet, Prowl thought it would be great if the Constructicons played with Soltice while he watched and took pictures. Then one of the Constructicons got out a rope and forced Soltice to play tug-of-war while another one found a tennis ball and made Soltice chase after it.

Soltice was angry about the whole episode, and that night as Prowl was happily looking over the videos and pictures he'd taken of the Constructicons playing with his pet, Soltice took off his collar and threw it on the floor. In anger, Prowl had sticky sex (which was actually Rape, and yes with a capital r) with Soltice and forced Soltice to get sparked up.

Nothing much happened for quite some time, but we assume that Soltice gave birth to a sparkling and the two continued to live with Prowl, whom we assume was still the Chief Enforcer of Praxus. But our story resumes again when Soltice's still genderless and nameless sparkling received its teenage upgrades. That was when the poor child discovered that its father, Prowl, had all these years been keeping its mom as his plaything. We assume that means the same thing as 'pet'.

The teenager, being rebellious and demanding and self-centered as teenagers often are, didn't like the fact that its mother was being kept under contract rather than by marriage, and convinced its mother that they should run away. As running away would render Soltice unemployable as his contract had not been properly terminated, they planned to fake their deaths.

How this was done, and if they really did go through with the faking their deaths thing, remains unknown, but they did move to Polyhex and changed their identities and their paint jobs. This was hard for the sparkling as it had never had much of an identity or even a gender to begin with, and so it decided to continue on without. But Soltice decidedly changed his name to Jazz (Gasp! Drama-bomb! Bet you didn't see that coming).

Years later _a war_ started, and while the participating forces and the reasons and the circumstances are of little importance, it was with some consequence that Prowl (not sure if he's still the Chief Enforcer of Praxus or has gone on to other things) met Jazz, who had apparently done something with his life and become Third in Command of something. The author is going to make a bold leap of faith here and assume it was the Autobot faction he was with.

Prowl soon discovered that the B/W mech ( Bust/Waist? Bitch/Whore? Boston/Washington?) was his pleasuremech from ages ago, whom he thought was long dead. And furthermore, he discovered that Jazz's creation, a lost and confused adult now, still having neither gender nor name, was of his siring. Prowl threatened to blackmail Jazz and his creation.

"Blackmail me? For what? For not properly terminating my employment contract eons ago? And what does my child have to do with this? Can't you just leave it out of this?" Jazz growled.

But Prowl, now known as Dark Prowl, was bound and determined to have Jazz as his pet again, and upped the stakes from threatening to blackmail to actually blackmailing. "I have videos and stills of you wearing a collar and playing fetch with the Constructicons. And not just fetch, I might add," he said with an ominous chuckle. "I seem to recall something about a rope and a tennis ball."

Jazz whimpered. He thought he'd been long past that humiliating episode of his life. "All right. What do you want?" He would do anything to keep those videos out of the hands of the Autobot faction, and worse yet, out of the hands of his new lover. At some point after joining the Autobots Jazz got together with a mech named Warpath. They didn't have much in common and no one would have ever imagined them together, but Jazz wasn't picky. In fact after all he'd been through he was ready to hook up with any mech that was willing to give him some love. And Warpath had come along at the right moment when Jazz was feeling depressed and questioning some of the choices he'd made in his life, and Warpath was all too willing to give the sexy B/W mech (Blonde/White-haired? Boxer/Weightlifter? Wait! I've got it Black/ White! OMG! Howcome I didn't realize that earlier?) some love. Even more, Warpath decided he liked a little carrier & creation action and was getting together with Jazz's child as well. Jazz at first thought it was a little weird, but he was thankful that at least his new lover had some affection for his creation and tolerated its lack of a gender and a name. But I digress...

Jazz soon found out what Dark Prowl wanted. Dark Prowl forced Jazz to submissively accept punishment. There was tons of non-con sticky sex for poor Jazz, much of it involving pet play and chairs pushed up against the wall, the two of which had always been Prowl's particular kinks, and were even worse now that he was Dark Prowl. The creation was warned not to tell or whatever. Dark Prowl would do something or other to it. Probably something like forcing it to choose a name and a sex.

But all ended happily. Years later during one dreadful non-con sticky session, Dark Prowl slipped and had an accident that somehow involved a collar getting stuck down his throat and a chair shoved up his cha-cha, and he died. Jazz quickly destroyed the damaging evidence, by which I mean the blackmail photos and videos of course.

Jazz knew that he was at long last free of his oppressor, and that he and his creation could now live happily with his crack-couple mate Warpath, just as they would have lived happily should Megatron have blasted Prowl aboard a shuttle in 2006 instead of Dark Prowl perishing in some unfortunate accident involving a chair and a collar.

 **x-x-x**

 **The End**

 **x-x-x**

 **Author's Note**

This story was not explicited because I didn't want to put it mostly on Ao3 and have the rest posted somewhere else. That would be frustrating and confusing to readers. It was however expedited—I wrote it in one three hour sitting.

Love to all the Bottom!Jazz fans (and Bottom!Soltice fans) out there!

And sorry to the prompter that this story was not explicited, so there wasn't any submissive pleasurebot Jazz in explicit kinky sticky Non-con (with a capital n!) situations nor graphically detailed dub con situations near the ending.

 **x-x-x**

 **Author Apology**

 **x-x-x**

My apologies to the prompter, whose first language probably isn't English. I've been a very moody, angry, reactive person lately and have been lashing out inappropriately. I blame my husband for nearly ruining our supposed honeymoon last week for writing this. How dare he tell me it was my fault that he couldn't get it in because I was tighter than a [insert religious/ethnic slur here]! I think the real reason was his limp [insert creative euphemism here]. And then three days later he accuses me of going out and cheating on him when I went AWOL for two and half hours. No, I seriously just needed to get away for some shopping and a couple beers at a bar. I thought he wouldn't even notice as he seemed more interested in looking at Facebook and email on his phone and reading the book he'd brought with him. And there's so much more I could complain about too...

P.S. If you liked this story, you'll want to read "Starscream's Sticky Adventure," in which the titular character is abused by Megatron and runs off to the Autobots, finding comfort and love in Optimus Prime's arms.

 **x-x-x**

All your base are belong to Hasbro. No money has been made off of this story, though a few enemies probably have...


End file.
